The Vanished Specialist Read online K. Webster (Lost Planet #2)

Categories Genre: Alien, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Lost Planet Series by K. Webster
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
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My body settles on hers. I love the way she feels so tiny beneath my larger, stronger frame—as though I am the only one who can ever protect her. She is mine to adore and look after. Mine. I rub my cock through her slickness and against her nub, wetting it.

“You are such a giving mate,” I praise, my mouth eager to lock with hers once more. I brush my lips over hers as the head of my cock pushes against her opening.

“Maybe I’m a greedy mate,” she teases. Her heels push into my buttocks as she urges me inside her.

I let out a groan of pleasure as I thrust my hips and drive all the way into her tight, tiny body. She cries out, her nails digging into my flesh, but she does not push me away. Her arms lock around my neck and her lips press to mine.

“Make love to me, Calix.”

Her words stoke a fire inside me. I give in to my animalistic instincts to mate and buck wildly against her. She roams her hands all over me, but I want them in mine. I grip them and pin them to the cushion on either side of her nog. Slightly, I lift up so I can watch her as I mate with her. Our bodies are making slurping sounds, but her moans are a song for my heart.

“You are so wet and tight inside,” I grunt. “It feels so good. I think I may not be able to refrain from spilling my seed.”

“Why would you ever want to refrain?” she whispers.

I groan as my release rushes through me. My seed fills my lilapetal up to the brim. A strong sense of male pride ripples from me as I conclude my seed will unite with hers, making us a little mortling of our own. I grunt until I have emptied every last drop and then I fall against her, careful not to crush her.

“Shhh,” I breathe as I kiss her pink nose. “Let me take care of you now.”

I had expected panic like Breccan had mentioned, but not Emery. Her blue eyes shine with trust and adoration. She is unable to move and I am locked inside her. I could see how that might be frightening.

But not my dear, brave mate.

Her blue eyes burn with fire and determination.

She is a fighter.

And whatever is ailing her, we will fight together. Together, we will heal her.

“My heart only beats for you,” I murmur against her soft lips. “It never beat until you. You give me life, my fragile lilapetal.”

A tear leaks down her temple.

“Do not worry,” I coo, understanding the worried thoughts going on in her nog without her having to voice them. I am that in tune with her. “As long as your heart beats, so will mine. And if yours ceases to beat, mine will too. Whatever happens, we will do it together. In this life or the one after.”

9

Emery

What can only be thunder, cracks and then booms and I shoot awake. The heavy weight of Calix’s arm falls with a thump in between us. The vacuuroom that had seemed so sturdy yesterday sways precariously in the howling wind. For a moment, my thoughts can’t quite catch up, my brain still languid with the aftereffects of the paralytic—toxica he’d called it—and the stupor of near-drugged sleep. Then, the lightning strikes again, closer, louder, and I stumble to my feet to the doors.

I peer through the small port-like window and the view on the other side causes my heart to drop to my feet. The storm that had seemed so far away the day before is right over us. It boils like an angry red-orange tornado, except it’s as wide as the horizon and threaded with violent bolts of lighting and I don’t even know what else.

We have to leave.

Now.

My knees cry out in protest as I throw myself to Calix’s side. “Calix, wake up. We have to go.”

He murmurs in his sleep and reaches an arm up to wrap around my waist. Then my words seem to sink in and his eyes snap open, dark and as stormy as the sky outside. His gaze flashes to the window and he’s on his feet so fast I come unbalanced and fall on my hands.

Cursing under his breath, or at least, I guess it’s cursing for morts, he tosses clothes in my direction. “You must dress. We’ll have to travel alongside the storm until we find a break or shelter.”

“We can’t stay here?” I ask, even as the structure whines violently. I dress in the minnasuit and then the zu-gear as quickly as possible. It’s not until I join him at the entrance that I realize I’m not out of breath. On any other day, the adrenaline, the panic and rushing around would have reduced me to a wheezing mess.


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